Childish Games
by Valiant Flower
Summary: Little Pevensies playing in the snow. Reposted!


No, I don't own them, just play with them.

Ages: Peter-7, Susan-6, Edmund-3, Lucy-2

Ed and Lucy have lisps in this story, like in my sister's story. That's kinda where I got the idea.

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"Mummy, Mummy, Mummy,.....!" Peter Pevensie came running into the house with rosy cheeks and grinning happily.

Helen leaned out of the kitchen where she was cleaning Edmund's scraped knee. (His squeals could be heard down the street, "Mummy, dat hurts! Don' do dat no more!")

"What is it, Peter? Is something wrong?" she felt his forehead and cheeks, seeing his flushed face.

"It's snowing!" That explained it.

Edmund stopped yelping immediately. "_I _wanna doe outside!"

Helen looked back at him, "I thought your knee hurt and you were going to die if I didn't do something soon." she held back a smile.

He looked at her, "Yeah, but you _did_do somefin, so I'n otay." (Yeah, but you did do something, so I'm okay.)

"I just cleaned it!"

"So?"

"I still have to but the bandage on it!"

"No!" he squealed, "I wanna doe wif Peeper!" (I want to go with Peter.)

"Peter, why don't you go ask Susan and Lucy if they can play? Make sure they bundle up, and when Edmund is ready, he'll join you."

"Okay, Mummy! Bye, Eddie!"

"No! No, no, no!" Edmund howled, but Helen picked him up and marched him down the hall.

"Have fun, Peter! Don't stay outside too long, you'll catch cold!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Peter sighed, thinking about his baby brother and feeling bad for him, then brightened, going to fetch his sisters.

"Susie!" he looked in her room. There she was, sitting on the bed, pretending to read a very large book to Lucy.

"What, Pete?" she asked, looking annoyed.

"It's snowing! Do you two wanna come outside?"

Lucy squealed, " 'No!" (snow!)

"What are we playing?" Susan asked, still skeptical.

"Whatever you want. ....We could play knights and princesses!"

"Who'll be the bad man? Eddie isn't here."

"Yeah, but he'll come. Please Susie? It's _snow_!"

"Fine. But I'm the princess, right?"

"Yep! Come on! I'll get Lucy ready, and you can get yourself ready, and we can meet at the door."

"Okay."

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When all three of them were ready and at the door, Peter instructed Lucy to go in front and open the door.

They had to improvise, as she was too small, so he reached over her head, and she still went first, grinning happily.

Then came Peter, with Susan's hand on his arm, both acting like royalty.

Until he got hit on the back of the head with a snowball.

Edmund started laughing hysterically, then quickly stopped at the look on Peter's face once he stopped jumping around, trying to get snow out of the back of his shirt.

"Edmund!" he roared, and the three year old took off running with Peter right behind him.

Susan and Lucy looked at each other, and Lucy asked, "Is dat duh bad man?" (Is that the bad man?")

"Erm...yes."

"What's he _'possed_ ta do?" (What's he supposed to do?")

"Well, usually they fight some, and-"

"I don' wan' em to fight!"(I don't want them to fight!) Lucy screamed.

"Oh! No, no, no! They fight with sticks and snow. Then Eddie dies-"

"No! I don' wan' Eddie ta die!"

"He doesn't _really_ die, he just pretends. Then he gets back up and watches the end."

"Was de end?" (What's the end?)

"Peter comes back, and we get married and live happily ever after."

"Wa' 'bout me?" Lucy asked.

"What do you _want_ to be?"

"I wanna be....Fafer 'Rismas!"

"Father Christmas?! Why?"

"Tus. I yike 'im." ('Cause. I like him)

"Oh. Alright, if you want, I suppose you could...."

At that moment Peter came back with a howling Edmund in his arms.

"Pu' me _down_, Peeper!"

"Alright," he was dumped onto the ground, "Now you stay there, or...or...I'll tell Mum."

"Petey, dess what! I'n Fafer 'Rismas!"

"You're what?"

"She's Father Christmas."

"Yeah, so I det ta div you pwesents!" (Yeah, so I get to give you presents!)

"Oh. Alright."

"Now, wai' a minute, tus I havta det my 'tuff." (Now, wait and minute, because I have to get my stuff.

Lucy went over across the yard and knelt down, her back turned.

"What's she doing?" Peter asked, starting to worry when she kept going for three minutes.

"I'n done!" she proudly walked back with her hands behind her back.

"Petey, you firs'. 'Lose your eyes..."

He was promptly hit in the face this time with a handful of snow.

"Lucy! I don't think you should be Father Christmas anymore!"

"Susie said."

"Then I don't think I want anymore of your presents."

"Yeah, ya do, tus if ya don' tate 'em, I'll div you _toal_." (Yeah, you do, because if you don't take them, I'll give you coal)

She didn't even make Susan close her eyes, she just got hit straight in the arm.

Then Peter waved her over and started whispering something to her.

So she went over to Edmund, who hadn't moved at all, but looked nervous.

"Happy 'Rismas, Eddie!" she squealed, running around behind him and shoving snow down his shirt.

"Lucy!" he yelped, trying to get snow out of his shirt without moving.

"Well done, Lucy!" Peter yelled, laughing.

Edmund gave up trying to make Peter not tell their mother, she would hear about it anyway.

He got up, tackled Peter to the ground (which only worked because Peter was laughing too hard to defend himself), then got up and tickled Lucy mercilessly, until Helen came out, and yelled in her sternest voice, "Edmund!"

He looked innocently up at her (still holding Lucy's sides, and she was still gasping for breath and giggling), then looked at Peter and said, "Peeper! Don' tickle Lucy lite dat!" (Peter! Don't tickle Lucy like that!)

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So what do you think? I'm pretty proud of this, and yes, it should be a one-shot. If you didn't understand the secret language of the toddlers, PM me, and I'll let you know, but translations are in parenthesis.

So please review!


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